Relapse
by sutatikku
Summary: [ AU: sora&kairi&riku × sora&riku ] [ Oh, this was in no way therapeutic. You can't help at all. ] The boy is bleeding from his waist. He'd take it from her.
1. Chapter 1

**RELAPSE**  
( not everything can be healed with a kiss. )

♥ sutatikku.

prolouge ..

* * *

It was still itching. He shouldn't be scratching this, but his hand moved right below his right hip bone, and he scratched. He'd then shudder with pain, because he'd peeled the skin. His little frame would tingle from toes to spine and he'd wear a mask of extreme pain. His eyebrows would draw together and more sweat would drip from his scalp, down his face and then down his neck.

He says, this hurts. I should stop. Really.

A hand his snaked around his thin waist, making sure not to hit the itching and aching spot. He says, Riku, I'm not your lover.

Riku laughs.

He says, "You're touching my bruise, move your hand up." He says, "Why did she cut me?" He says, "Why aren't you mad at me?"

Riku's sighing. Alright. He takes his hands away from the boy's waist, and he says, alright, Sora, do you want me mad at you? You were being smart.

Sora shakes his head, and his hair is flying around wildly. It's tangled up with sweat and sea water. He moves his hands to his wild hair, palms still caked in with blood. It's not the blood from his hands; it's the blood from his waist. He says, "I wasn't being smart." He's saying it like how someone would say, I didn't hit the target. It was a miss; he'd missed that time. He says, "I had no excuse, to, well, knock her one."

Riku laughs loudly and kicks sand onto Sora's back. Sora shudders again, because he's still without a shirt and his wound is still rather new. "What are you even thinking? Of course you have an excuse! She took out a pocketknife, Sora."

A pocketknife. He repeats. A pocketknife. He gives the boy a stern look, and he says, it was self-defense. That's all.

Sora's legs are hanging off the edge so far he's probably going to fall off and drown. He moves his blood-caked hands to his eyes to find he's crying, again. He says, "No! No! It was my pocketknife!" He says, "It was her self-defense!" He says, "She wants to kill me!"

Sometimes to cover up anguish, you use it all and turn it to anger. He wants to be angry at her, not sad that, well, she'd stabbed him. Maybe it's because he knows that somehow this was his fault. He knows that she was being rational. He knows that she's still so perfect.

He says, "She's perfect." He's now sniffling, trying to calm down. He's coughing and he's hacking and he's itching. The blood on his waist is fresh again; it looks like he's dabbled in tomato sauce or marker. His blood is on the sand, making some odd purplish-black grain. He's sniffling.

"If she was perfect you wouldn't have that X on your hip."

Sniffle. Cough.

"If she was perfect she wouldn't have taken that knife."

Cough. Hack. Sniffle.

Sora looks up at Riku. It was my knife, he's saying. Him screaming, "She's still perfect. She's always been perfect. Taking the knife doesn't change that. This stupid cut doesn't change that." His voice is the only sound, next to the sound of the waves colliding into the shore, eroding the mound they're sitting on. In several years, the water will have pushed and crumbled against this sand so much, that it'll be so unstable. In several years, they'll be so different.

Him screaming, "You don't get it! You don't get it!" He's scratching and scratching, and more blood is pouring out of his waist. The scab is practically gone. The pain reminds him of her, because she's done this. She's the one giving him this pain. He'd take anything from her. He'd take heartbreak. He'd take envy. He'd take compassion. He'd take happiness. He'd take anguish. He's taking pain.

He would take it all.

Him screaming, "She's done this! Why didn't she do more? Why didn't she aim higher?" By now his entire face is all snotty and wet. He cranes his neck forward and begins boo-hooing. Riku just says, oh drama.

Sniff, sniff. You're one to talk.

Riku's frowning, and he takes a seat next to the bleeding boy. He's saying, "She's not worth it, no really. I can do so much more for you," baby, "I can take this away." But Sora's still boo-hooing. His act of comfort is ignored.

I can take this away.

Sora's shaking uncontrollably, and he's sobbing. It's like a bubble has popped and everything inside exploded out. He's bleeding even worse, and he's using his nails to open the wound wider. He wants to feel this pain. He wants to feel what she's given him.

"No, you can't." Sniff. "Only she can! She's absolutely the only one I want. You aren't doing anything." He sees the boy behind him flinch, but he's not in control of his mouth. Now he's angry again and he's standing up and walking off of their mound. Him screaming, "You can't do anything!"

Riku understands, he's taking Sora's past seat. He's sitting in the boy's blood, and he's picking up the knife that fell out of his pocket. He's looking at the purple sand and the white ocean foam. He's looking at the blood-crusted knife.

He drops the knife into the ocean foam, not caring that he'd be giving someone AIDS. His big 'screw you' to the ocean and everything in it. Fishes? Screw them. All the endangered dolphins that wouldn't screw to save their species. Screw them. All the whales moaning when they're having sex. Screw them.

Riku clenches his fist. He's saying to himself, calm down, calm down. Sora's just being moody. He's saying to himself, this doesn't mean anything. Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah. Yeah.

This doesn't mean anything.

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review please. 


	2. ready set GO

**RELAPSE**

( most habits start young. )

♥ sutatikku.

chapter 1..

* * *

The Sleeping Game.

Gather around, you two, he'd said. We're playing the Sleeping Game.

Puzzled blue eyes met the confident aquamarine optics. The owner of the blue eyes darted around a bit in the sand, tiny frame bouncing around. "What's that?" The voice was high, indistinguishable from a boy or a girl. Age five, Sora really wasn't much different.

Age six, Riku would look back at him and cross his arms. "You really don't know?" he asked, tone surprisingly smug for someone his age. Riku knew Sora wouldn't know, so, of course, he asked. "It's a game where .. well." He looked away.

Stubborn Sora persisted. "Come on! Tell me! Tell me!" He whined and growled, stomping both his feet into the beach's sand. His sandals sunk into the sand.

Little Kairi was there, too. She'd finally spoken. When she was little, she didn't talk nearly as much as she did now. "Riku, what kind of game is it?" Her voice sounded like the stereotypical little girl on television. The one in Full House or some sitcom.

Stubborn Sora held his breath for a moment. His pudgy face was turning red, and his blue eyes were narrowed. He exhaled loudly, kicking sand at Riku. "Tell me!" he whined, looking increasingly frustrated.

"Okay, okay!" Riku said, putting his hands up in defeat. He put them down and crossed them over his chest. The three children were in a triangle formation, standing on the beaches shore. This was before the little shack near them now was built.

Riku leaned in, like the game was one big secret. "Okay, well one of us has to lie down on the ground. Another person gets to do whatever they want to the person lying down. The trick is, the person lying down can't move or make any noises."

Seemed simple enough.

Sora grinned, satisfied with this answer. "Okay, I get to lie down first."

And, when he was ten, "Okay, I get to lie down first."

And, when he was twelve, "Okay, I get to lie down first."

And, when he was fourteen, "Kairi can go first."

It was around the time where Kairi went first is when Sora started to snap. All the ropes neatly placed around him, his restraints, were pulled off suddenly. This was a year before now.

"Okay, Kairi," he said, pointing at her bed, which she lied down on promptly. "You're so not going to win this round."

But she did. Not a flinch of a face muscle, nothing.

She was still able to do that, just now.

* * *

tell me if you see typos.  
because i'm really bad at it. apparently.

oh, and i know this was short. but i had .. to elude?


End file.
